


20 Days

by GreenCat42



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Pining Viktor, Poor Viktor, viktuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9137146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenCat42/pseuds/GreenCat42
Summary: It was hard enough being separated from Yuuri the first time, but now they have to be separated so Yuuri can finalize the paperwork and move to St. Petersburg. (Set after Episode 12)





	1. Chapter 1

          The Grand Prix Final was over, the banquet had been a roaring success, although Viktor enjoyed the one the year before far more. “Viktor, are you going to be ok in St. Petersburg?” Yuuri asked him the morning after the banquet.

            Viktor groaned and rubbed his head. Too much champagne and not enough water. “Of course,” he replied, giving Yuuri a blinding smile.

            That was a lie; a bald-faced lie. Viktor knew how he was going to do in St. Petersburg, pine after his fiancé. It would be just like when he went back to Hasetsu to take care of Makachin. Waiting for Yuuri to arrive was agony. “You’re lying Viktor,” Yuuri said crawling over to brush his fingers against his cheek.

            He pulled Yuuri into his arms, settling his face into the crook of his neck. “How long?” he murmured.

            “A few weeks maybe, it might take longer,” Yuuri replied.

            Viktor groaned and squeezed Yuuri tighter. “Why so long?”

            “I have to ship my stuff, file the proper paperwork, there’s a lot to do Viktor.”

            He just wanted Yuuri to come with him to St. Petersburg. _‘How is he so calm? Isn’t he worried?’_ Viktor thought.

            The idea that Yuuri didn’t love him was his greatest fear and even the great Viktor Nikiforov was afraid of something. “Viktor, are you ok? You’re trembling.”

            “I’m fine.”

            He pulled back from Yuuri and stretched. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

            “Kay.”

            Later that day they had to figure out who’s clothes were who’s. It had become common for both of them to come in and throw their clothes in a pile, instead of trying to keep them separate.

            Finally, the two of them were packed. It was a little sad seeing the beds back to the way they were when they first came in. He wasn’t ready. No, not ready at all. Phitchit was staying in Barcelona for another two days before flying home. Otabek left ridiculously early according to a very upset and grumpy Yurio. The others had their own plans.

           Viktor slid his hand into Yuuri’s after they left the hotel. Yuuri hailed a cab and they climbed in. Viktor refused to let go of his hand. There was already a lump in his throat, but he refused to cry again. The ride to the airport was quiet, Yuuri leaning on Viktor’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined.

           There was still time before Yuuri’s flight when they arrived, and Viktor’s flight wasn’t for another two hours. The two of them waited together until Yuuri’s flight was announced.

            Viktor still held his hand, fingers intertwined. “Viktor, I have to go now.”

            “Text me when you land,” he said, blinking back tears.

            Yuuri pulled his hand free only to fling his arms around Viktor’s neck. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

            When Yuuri pulled back his dark eyes were wet and he gave Viktor a shaky sad smile. He reached for Viktor’s hand and kissed the ring. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

            A chill surrounded Viktor when Yuuri let go and resettled his bag on his shoulder. It was hard watching him walk through the gate and away from him. Viktor watched as his fiancé walked away, before turning and heading to the gate for his flight. His heart was heavy in his chest, and he already missed Yuuri.

            When his flight was announced, Viktor slowly made his way up the gate and onto the plane. He heard whispers behind him, but he just couldn’t put on a smile and be happy. “Isn’t that Viktor?”

            “I wonder if he’d autograph my book?”

            “He looks sad, don’t bother him.”

            “Shh, or he’ll hear you.”

            Viktor sighed and settled into his seat. He stared blankly out the window, hoping Yuuri’s flight went well. Announcements were made in several languages, and he was soon on his way back to Russia.

+++

 

            Day one being in St. Petersburg and Viktor was already miserable. He was sprawled out on the couch, Makachin curled up around his legs. Absentmindedly, he scratched his ears, the other hand scrolling through Instagram. His phone pinged, it was a text from Yuuri.

           

 **Yuuri:** How’s St. Petersburg? It’s not the same in Hasetsu without you. Everyone keeps asking where you are.

 

 **Viktor:** I miss you too <3\. Skating isn’t the same without you.

 

 **Yuuri:** katsudon isn’t as good without you, it’s missing something.

 

 **Viktor:** I can’t wait to see you again.

 

            Tears pricked in Viktor’s eyes, his heart clenching. He wanted to be with Yuuri eating katsudon and taking long baths. It was hard sleeping without Yuuri in his arms, his scent in his nose. Makachin huffed, and licked his fingers. “C’mon let’s go for a walk.”

            The large poodle scrambled to his feet, his tail wagging. He whined until Viktor grabbed his leash and hooked it on. Slipping on shoes and a coat, they left his apartment. _‘I can’t wait for Yuuri to move in.’_

Viktor walked, heading towards his favorite bridge. Makachin strolled next to him, tail wagging. His thoughts wandered, thinking of the places he wanted to show Yuuri. How he’d redecorate his-now their apartment. Makachin barked and pulled at the leash. Shaking his head, Viktor paid attention to Makachin letting more of the leash out of his hand.

            He imagined walks with Makachin, hand in hand. Viktor’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out. “Yes?”         

            “So, you’re back,” Yurio’s voice called over the phone. “Are you going to come by the rink? Mila and Georgi want to say hi.”

            “Sure, I’ll be over soon.”

            No one minded if he brought Makachin to the rink, it was common place. “You want to go see the rink?” Viktor asked.

            Makachin barked and waved his tail. Mila loved him, and had missed him since he had to stay in Hasetsu. The rink was far enough that Viktor had to take a taxi, unlike the rink in Hasetsu. When he was younger, there were a few times during the summer where he’d run to the rink, but most days it was too far.

            The ride to the rink was short, Makachin draped over his legs, tail wagging. Viktor stroked his hair, his mind thinking of what Yuuri was doing. “Sir, we’re at your destination.”

            He hadn’t even noticed, Viktor was so caught up in thoughts of Yuuri. He paid and Makachin leapt out of the cab almost taking Viktor with him. Normally it felt like coming home when he saw the rink, but this time it just didn’t feel right. _‘I miss Ice Castle Hasetsu,’_ Viktor thought following Makachin.

            Yuuri wouldn’t be waiting inside, he wouldn’t get to see Minako or the triplets. No morning bike ride with Yuuri running behind him. Plus, the sea air in St. Petersburg was different, the cries of the gulls different. “Viktor!” Mila’s exuberant voice called when he walked inside the rink. “Makachin!”

            The poodle pulled the leash from Viktor’s hand and raced towards the tall redhead. He leapt up his tail wagging. “Oof Makachin did you get fatter living in Hasetsu?” Mila said, a wide grin on her face.

            Makachin barked and settled back onto four paws. “Hi Viktor, how was your flight?”

            “Long,” Viktor said running a hand through his hair.

            Mila gave him a knowing gaze, like she knew what he was thinking. “How was Yuuri’s flight?”

            “He got to Hasetsu fine,” Viktor replied reaching to grab the end of Makachin’s leash.

            “How are you holding up?”

            “I’m fine,” Viktor said.

            She quirked an eyebrow, giving him a look, ‘no you’re not’. Viktor sighed and shook his head. “I miss him.”

            “Of course you do,” she said. “C’mon Georgi is already on the ice. Yakov has him practicing already for next season.”

            Makachin followed Mila happily pulling Viktor behind him. “No, no!” Yakov’s voice called.

            All of this was familiar and home like, his home rink would feel that way. Yurio was skating behind Georgi, his trademark glare settled on his face. “Yurio show him again,” Yakov snapped.

            “Viktor’s here!” Mila announced.

            “Great, hey Viktor,” Yurio said waving a hand.

            Viktor went to lean on the wall, watching his rinkmates skate.


	2. Chapter 2

            Day four, no one was shocked when Viktor showed up at the rink in Yuuri’s skate coat. The black and blue with Japan embroidered on the back, it was a little bit of a tight fit, but Yuuri had his red and white skate jacket instead. They’d swapped them the morning they were to leave. “Why do you have pork cutlet bowl’s jacket?” Yurio grumbled. “It doesn’t even fit you.”

            “Because Yuuri gave it to me, he has mine,” Viktor retorted.

            He took to the ice, the comfort of wearing Yuuri’s coat making a small smile curl on his lips.

            Mila skated up to him a smile on her face. “It’s good to have you back Viktor,” she said.

            He warmed up, skating slowly and lazily around the rink, Mila following behind him. “You look tired, are you sleeping ok?” she asked.

            “I’m fine Mother,” Viktor said.

            Mila shrugged her shoulders and moved away from him, with long graceful strokes of her legs. _‘I don’t need mothering, I’m fine.’_

            Viktor wasn’t fine though. It took all of his energy and training not to blindly buy a ticket to Japan and fly to see Yuuri. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for him to fly off to see him. Even Makachin couldn’t keep his mind off Yuuri. “Viktor,” Yurio’s voice cut through. “Are you even listening to me?”

            Viktor didn’t even notice Yurio had skated over to where he was, he was so lost in thought. “Hm, sorry Yurio.”  
            “Don’t call me that idiot!”

            “I was thinking of Yuuri.”

            “Of course you were, are you going to help me with my routine or not?” Yurio snarled glaring up at Viktor.

            “Sure,” Viktor said. “Let’s go.”

            Yurio huffed, blowing his hair out of his eyes in frustration and grumbling under his breath about idiot fucking Viktor the drama queen. He had to clear his head and get working, not pine after Yuuri.

            After practice, Viktor sent a facetime message. He had to see Yuuri. He waited impatiently as the phone rang. Click, and Yuuri’s face filled the small screen of his phone. “Hi Viktor!”

            A wide smile curled across his fiancé’s face. “Hi Yuuri, how are you?” Viktor asked.

            “Busy, I’ve been keeping in shape, working on skating.”

            “I miss you.”

            Sadness flashed in Yuuri’s eyes for a moment. “I miss you too Viktor. Did they say anything when you showed up in my skate jacket?”

            “Yurio asked me why I was wearing it. It is a little small,” Viktor said chuckling.

            “The triplets took a million pictures of me when they saw me wearing your jacket. Minako asked me if really was yours.”

            His voice calmed Viktor, lessened the pain in his chest. “How are the preparations going?”

             “There was a little hiccup with the paperwork, but it’ll be smoothed out by tomorrow at the earliest.”

            Disappointment flooded Viktor’s stomach, more time added on, widening when he would get to see him again. “I’m sorry Viktor, it was my fault.”

            “No, it’s ok. I’ve been working on choregraphing your new short program already.

            That was a lie. He couldn’t even think straight, let alone choregraph anything. “You should start thinking of what your theme is and music.”  
            “Sure, I don’t know how I’m going to top last season,” Yuuri said.

            “We’ll make it happen,” Viktor said.

            Voices called out in Japanese in the background. “Hey Viktor I have to go, Mom needs my help.”

            “Okay,” Viktor said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

            “Love you.”

            “Love you too.”

            The screen went to his background, the happy face of Makachin staring at him. Tears pricked in his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. He’d hoped to talk longer, but it couldn’t be helped. _‘Maybe a run would help.’_

            “Makachin, want to go for a run.”

            The poodle raced over, his tail wagging. It would at least wear him out enough to sleep that night.

           

+++

 

            Day seven and Viktor was beside himself. He’d drunk himself into a stupor the night before just so he could sleep. The shirt he’d ‘borrowed’ from Yuuri was clutched in his hands. It smelled like him and it kept heartache at bay. He missed him so much it hurt. It felt like his heart was in pieces, a deep ache that wouldn’t go away. Not even skating helped. Nothing helped.

            Groaning, Viktor sat up and rubbed his face. His head felt heavy and he turned to see what time it was. 11:15 am. He missed morning practice, great. Grabbing his phone, he saw he had four missed calls and three texts. Getting ready, he ignored his phone ringing again. He’d get to the rink when he got there. Makachin whined, he was used to going out very early in the morning. “Sorry,” Viktor mumbled.

            Viktor dressed in whatever clothes he could find, it didn’t matter. Makachin followed him around, staying close to him. “I’m fine Makachin,” he muttered.

            His apartment was a mess, clothing piled up, dishes in the sink. It wasn’t normal. Viktor usually was the epidemy of cleanliness. He was going out of his mind. “Let’s go Makachin.”

            Clicking on his leash, they left his apartment. The walk they took was long and winding, with Makachin taking the lead mostly. Colors didn’t seem nearly as bright. His phone kept ringing, finally he pulled it out and answered it. “What?” he snapped.

            “Vitya, why aren’t you at practice?” Yakov roared. “You are late!”

            “I’ll be there later,” Viktor replied.

            “Fine Vitya.”

            Yakov’s voice was filled with resignation, it surprised Viktor a little. Turning, he headed home to get his skate bag and head to the rink.

            “Where have you been?” Mila asked when she saw him walk in.

            “Sleeping,” Viktor said.

            “Are you ok Viktor?” Georgi asked watching how slow Viktor was to remove his skate guards.

            “I’m fine.”     

            Those words, they felt so empty, and worthless. He wasn’t fine, but what was he going to tell them, that he was falling apart. “Where’s Yurio?” he asked not seeing the blonde.

            “He’s visiting his Grandpa, he’s in the hospital again,” Mila said.

            “Oh…”

            Mila and Georgi exchanged looks, ones that Viktor missed. He turned and started his warmup. At least he could try and skate himself into exhaustion, then he’d call Yurio and ask how his grandpa was, that was the least he could do.

 

+++

 

            Day nine. “Viktor, you look like shit, you really miss that pork cutlet bowl?” Yurio drawled, leaning over the railing. “That fat pig reduced the best to a pile of sniveling shit.”

            Purple shadows hugged Viktor’s eyes and stubble coated his lower jaw. Anger curled around his spine, swirling up inside him. He grabbed Yurio’s shirt pulling him close. “At least I have someone to miss, who do you have?” he said, his voice even and cold.

            Yurio’s eyes were wide, his jaw clenching. He tore away from Viktor’s grasp, his skates hard against the ice _._ Viktor knew Yurio had his grandpa and Otabek, but it still didn’t stop those cold words from spilling from his lips. 

            “Vitya stop it. Get to practice,” Yakov said, but there was worry in his eyes.

            “Yes Yakov,” Viktor drawled.

            The anger still curled inside him, burning angrily in his stomach. He didn’t know how to make it go away. Yurio could curse, scream, and have a fit when he was angry; but Viktor didn’t release his anger and frustration that way.  Instead, he skated, speeding up and doing reckless turns and jumps.

            Although Yakov said he wasn’t supposed to any quads this week, he ignored his words and moved into position to do a quad salchow. For the first time in years, Viktor flubbed that jump, landing hard on his side. A soft chorus of gasps echoed over the ice. Clenching his jaw, Viktor got to his feet brushing the shards of ice off his clothes. The anger was still there, but mostly it was at himself. “Vitya, I told you not to do quads!” Yakov roared.

            Viktor ignored his words, skating away, speeding up. Faster, faster, he pushed himself. He tried a double, popping the jump and nearly running into the wall. “Viktor!” Mila cried. “Stop!”

            He panted, his chest rising and falling. She skated over to him, cupping his face in her gloved hands. “Let it out.”

            Tears filled his eyes, dripping down his cheeks. It was embarrassing to cry, he hated crying. She slid her arms around him, holding him tight. “I’m sorry you miss him that much.”

            “I can’t sleep,” Viktor wailed leaning into her. “I miss him so.”

            “I know. Vitya, go home. You need to relax, call him.” Mila said leaning back.

            Viktor sniffed and brushed the tears from his face. “Thank you.”

            Yakov didn’t say anything, just gave him a sad look when he skated to the exit, then sighed. “Vitya be strong.”

            Makachin was waiting for him at the door, tail wagging. Curling up on the couch, he let Makachin curl up on his stomach, stroking his soft curly fur. Once he was calmer, he’d call Yuuri, but for now he just needed time.    


	3. Chapter 3

            Day twelve. Viktor had skipped practice for three days. He didn’t want to get out of bed. His phone rang, it was a facetime call from Yuuri. Pushing back his uncombed hair, he answered. “Hello,” he said pasting on a smile.

            “Hi Viktor!” Yuuri said returning the smile, then it wavered and fell. “Viktor, are you ill?”

            “Yes,” he lied, fake coughing. “I caught a cold, but I’m starting to feel better already.”

            “Good, I don’t want you to be sick. How’s your routine going?”

            “Yakov keeps having me practice my quad toe loop until I ache. He won’t let me practice a quad flip though,” Viktor said.

            Another lie. His voice was turning gravely, tears pricked his eyes. Yuuri was so close, but so far. “You should get some sleep Viktor, I’ll talk to you later.”

            “Okay, bye. I love you.”

            “I love you too Viktor.”

            He disconnected the call and sighed. His phone pinged in succession right after the call.

 

 **Yurio:** Viktor, where are you? I’m going to find you if you don’t come to practice. Quit being a fucking idiot.

 

 **Mila:** We miss you, please stop skipping practice.

 

 **Georgi:** Why aren’t you here?

 

            Viktor sighed and set his phone down. He pulled a blanket over him and turned his phone on silent. Makachin snuck under the covers with him, whining softly. Closing his eyes, he tried to sleep.

Bang bang! Someone was knocking loudly on the door to his apartment. Taking a deep breath, Viktor tried to calm the anger that bubbled up, and got up.

            He was only a little surprised when he opened the door. A very angry grumpy Ice Tiger of Russia was standing outside his door. “What the hell Viktor! Yakov is beside himself, you won’t answer anyone’s calls or texts!” Yurio roared. “Why aren’t you going to practice?!”

            “I’m sorry.”

            Yurio sputtered, his rant puttering out into silence. “What?”

            “I’m sorry Yurio.”

            “You look like shit. When is katsudon getting here?” Yurio asked, elbowing his way in. “What the hell?”

            Makachin ran over to Yurio jumping up and putting his paws on his shoulders. “Down Makachin. Viktor, what is this?”

            The mess, oh right. He hadn’t cleaned, barely eaten in three days. “I’ll clean it up.”

            Yurio set his hands on his hip, cocking his head to the side. “Viktor, really? Do you really miss that pork cutlet bowl that much?”

            There was astonishment and worry in his voice. “Pathetic, I know.”

            “Get dressed, we’re going on a run.”

            Even though Viktor knew it wouldn’t do him any good, he went and got dressed. When he came out, Yurio had Makachin’s leash on. “He’s coming too.”

            Once they reached the streets, Yurio broke into a run. They didn’t talk, just the sounds of tennis shoes hitting pavement, the sounds of cars driving by. Makachin loved it, his tongue hanging out as he panted. _‘I haven’t been walking him as much as I should,’_ Viktor thought.

            One mile, then two, and three; it felt good to stretch his legs. Glancing around, he noticed they were almost back to his apartment. “Viktor,” Yurio said slowing to a jog. “I’m coming over tomorrow. We’re going to clean your apartment.”

            Again, it was a simple statement, a fact. “Okay.”

            Yurio left after they reached his apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

+++

 

            Day fourteen, Viktor stared up at his ring, the gold band sparkling in the morning sunshine. Makachin barked, then pushed his empty bowl towards Viktor. “Sorry Makachin.”

            It wasn’t fair to the poodle that he share his depression. Pulling out the food, he poured it into the bowl and set it on the floor. While he was it, he refilled Makachin’s water bowl.  The sounds of crunching kibble filled the empty apartment. His own stomach grumbled, but Viktor wasn’t terribly hungry.

            He was so close to seeing Yuuri again, it wouldn’t do him any good to stay in this depression, but it was still hard to get moving. Yurio was coming over to help him clean up. He also suspected to be dragged to the rink to practice. Yakov didn’t believe him when he said he was sick, Viktor never got sick.

            His phone pinged and a loud knock echoed from his door. “Open up Viktor!” Yurio’s voice called through the wood of the door.

            Viktor got to his feet and shuffled to the door. He swept inside, moving close and poking Viktor’s chest. “We’re going to clean up this pigsty, then we’re going to the rink. You’re going to help me with my routine and like it!”

            A very small smile curled up on Viktor’s face, a rarity since he’d separated from Yuuri. It was just like Yurio to act like it was the biggest pain he had to help him, when in reality it was because he was worried. “Mila said she’d come over in a bit to help.”

            “Alright.”

            He went and started on the dishes, while Yurio picked up clothes.

            Mila clucked her tongue when she arrived. “Vitya you should’ve told us how bad you were,” she said.

            “Crying in front of everyone at the rink wasn’t clear enough?” Viktor grumbled while he folded a blanket.

            “Not coming to practice, not answering anyone’s calls. We were worried, so was Yakov. He worries about you too you know that.”

            Guilt ate at Viktor’s stomach, Yakov was like family, the amount of time they’d spent together was years. “I’ll call him,” Viktor said.

            “Good, now where’s your washer.”

            “Don’t wash Yuuri’s skate jacket, or,” Viktor said.

            “Or?”

            He hurried to his bedroom and grabbed Yuuri’s shirt. It was fainter, but it still smelled like him. “This.”

            Mila nodded and went to start laundry. “Go shower you smell,” Yurio said wrinkling his nose. “I’ll keep going.”

            Viktor stood under the hot water, letting it seep into his body. It felt good, getting clean. _‘I am pathetic. I wonder if Yuuri misses me as much,’_ Viktor thought.

            He knew he did. The memory of meeting him at the airport, the way Yuuri clung to him, hearing his heart race. Time was almost gone, soon Viktor would be seeing Yuuri again, soon.

            Viktor finished his shower, drying his hair off. Mila peeked her head into his bathroom. “Did you need clean clothes Vitya?”

            “Please,” he said.

            She handed him some clothes, grabbing his dirty ones. “When you’re finished, we’re going out for dinner, even though Yuri said he wanted you to go to the rink.”

            Viktor’s stomach grumbled loudly in response. “Hurry up.”

            It was like night and day when he came out of the bathroom in clean clothes. Everything was neat and in its place. “Don’t go messing up our hard work,” Yurio grumbled. “Mila’s treating us to dinner.”

            “Hurry up you two,” Mila said.

            Viktor went to put on his shoes and coat. It felt good to have a clean apartment again, and to have friends willing to help him. “You owe me big Vitya,” Mila said. “You better tell Yuuri everything when he gets here.”

            “Let’s go,” Yurio whined. “I’m hungry.”

            Off they went, Mila chattering away.

 

+++

 

            Day twenty, Yuuri was to arrive. Viktor stood in front of the mirror, clearing the fog from the glass. His gray hair hung wetly down his face, water droplets dripping down his skin. He tried to smile; it felt odd to his face, like his skin would crack. Reaching for a towel, he covered his head and rubbed vigorously to dry his hair. Next was to decide what to wear. He had to look good, granted Viktor looked good in anything.

            It was easy to convince Yurio to come greet Yuuri, despite grumbling about seeing that pork cutlet bowl again. It was agreed they’d meet on the bridge, the bridge where Viktor decided to throw his career away and go to Japan. “Stop fidgeting Viktor,” Yurio grumbled, leaning against a pillar. “He’ll get here when he gets here.”

            “It’s been too long.”

            Makachin barked and wagged his tail. He smelled Yuuri and raced off to greet him. Soon, the familiar black haired man came into Viktor’s view. His hair had grown longer, the breeze ruffling and pushing it back. Viktor’s heart raced, beating so loud he wondered if everyone in St. Petersburg could hear it. “Yuri!” he called.

            “Viktor!” Yuuri yelled back running towards him.

            They smashed into each other almost tumbling over. Yurio grumbled obscenities in Russian, clearly disgusted by their display. Viktor held him close, so close, his face pressed into Yuuri’s shoulder. He took in his scent, the smell of his cologne, his own personal scent. “Are you smelling me Viktor?” Yuri asked.

            “Yes, I missed you.”

            Cupping his face, Viktor pressed his lips against Yuuri’s. He couldn’t help but kiss him, he was so happy. “Viktor!” Yurio screeched. “What the hell!”

            Yuuri broke the kiss, his face bright red. “Viktor, what if someone saw us?” he sputtered.

            “I kissed you in front of an entire crowd, this is nothing,” Viktor said kissing his nose. “I missed you so.”

            “It was the worst twenty days of my life,” Yurio drawled. “Katsudon make him tell you everything Viktor pulled while you were away.”

            “What happened?” Yuuri asked.

            “I’ll tell you later, but now I want you all to myself.”

            “You promised me dinner,” Yurio said.

            “Right, is Mila and Georgi still meeting us?”

            “Yes.”

            Before they started off towards the restaurant, Viktor leaned over and whispered in Yuuri’s ear. “I love you.”

            He slipped his hand into Yuuri’s, clutching tightly. He wouldn’t let go of his hand for anything and he was so happy Yuuri was back in his sight.


End file.
